


A Better Understanding of You

by void_cat



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quentin is confused, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, There wasn't enough Harringsmith so I made some, but so is Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/void_cat/pseuds/void_cat
Summary: The realm begins to take its toll on Quentin. Lucky for him, Steve notices.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Quentin Smith
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	1. Stuck in Hell

His feet dug hard into the dirt of the Macmillan estate. Exhaustion burning through his legs and every new gasp of air scorching his lungs. A violent roar filled the air behind him and every hair on Quentin’s body stood on end.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why me?_

When a new survivor appeared from the fog, it was almost certain a new Killer would too. One look at the new face and unspoken fear filled them. The inevitable uncomfortable welcome speech. The fall in the newcomer's face when they learned what fate was to come. Many times over. Most ran back into the forest only to appear back at the campfire as if they had run a full circle. Eventually, they either tired out or got called to a trial. 

It made him feel sick to hear it. He had heard it 7 times now. Dwight was always the one to explain it, gentle and calm as if speaking to a cornered animal. The blonde girl in the biker jacket grew paler with each word that came out of his mouth. She looked tough. She hadn’t run and had instead sat silently listening to the words. Face scrunched up in thought. She waited patiently until Dwight had finished before standing up and walking to the tree line. She sat with her back facing the campfire. After some hushed whispers around the fire, Claudette and Kate walked over to speak to her. 

Quentin looked down at the fire as the sick feeling in his stomach grew. _How many more people will it bring in? Aren’t we enough?_ The flames flickered idly. No heat reached him. Another thing the Entity got wrong. Quentin saw movement to his right and looked up. David glanced at him, clearly just as uncomfortable as him. He opened his mouth to speak only to pause after looking down at Quentin’s arms. 

A feeling pricked at his limbs and he looked down to see his hands and feet disappearing. He looked back up at David. David flashed him a grin and a thumbs-up, “Give em hell kid.” 

And then he was gone.

The Macmillan Estate. The Suffocation Pit.

Something was wrong. The air felt inexplicably heavy and his heart beat rapidly in his chest. Panic flooded his being. The killer must be near. 

Quentin dropped into a crouch, frantically looking around. A shuffling sound to his right. Quentin glanced over to see Bill with a finger up to his lips. Wordlessly, the older man pointed towards the shack just in time for them to see a massive monstrosity barrel away from it in their direction. A giant at least 7 feet tall and donning a red mask. Loud and angry. Quentin crouched behind the wall and prayed that it wouldn’t see them. 

The killer rarely ever appeared this close at the beginning of a trial. The Entity must truly hate him. 

He had hoped that the killer hadn’t seen him. But somehow it must have known. The crunching of grass and heavy footsteps as it approached from his side. Heavy breathing. 

Quentin knew he had one choice or else it would get them both. And he took it.

 _At least Bill is okay._

He tore through the grass taking the long way around the wall, straight towards it. The air left his lungs as he stood a few feet from it. It was terrifying up close. Thick ropes adorning its body and a huge katana held firmly in its hands. Long white hair whipping out from behind it. It charged forward the moment that Quentin appeared from behind the wall. Quentin dashed past him missing the blade by a few inches. 

Quentin twisted and grabbed the pallet. He slammed it down without a second thought. The beast let out a distorted shout as the pallet collided against its shoulder. It stood up again to its full height and Quentin’s blood ran cold. Red eyes boring holes into him. Seething hatred spilling out of the creature. Seconds went by and the monster brought up it’s foot and the pallet exploded. Splinters flying out and hitting him. The creature strode forward closing in on him. 

The chase was on.

2 hooks. 4 pallets. He had dropped 4 pallets onto it and not a single one deterred that thing. It seemed hell-bent on getting him and only him. Each pallet filling the demon with more rage. 

Dwight came for the unhook, throwing him a pitiful glance as the demon sprinted across the grass at them. The worried look on his face as he looked at Quentin, mouthing the words, _“I’m sorry.”_ Dwight dove behind the debris leaving him standing there. 

_I can’t blame him. There’s nothing he can do._

Panic filled him as the demon sprinted straight for him. Quentin took off. The demon hot on his heels. He looked frantically around for a pallet to buy him enough time to get away. Absolutely nothing. 

A dead zone. 

_The Mine is to my right. If I can just make it there-_

The monster let out a violent scream and lunged at him. 

A generator popped in the distance. 

Quentin dove to the left narrowly missing the spiked club by a few inches, landing on his backside. The club smashed into the ground and an angry shout left the beast, effectively rattling Quentin to his core. Quentin shuffled up onto his elbows. 

In those few seconds it took for him to regain his bearings, the monster raised its weapon and angrily smashed him across the chest. His head snapped back with the force. A pained shout ripped out of him as he felt ribs snap like twigs. The monster raised it’s weapon again.

“Hey asshole!” 

Quentin’s head swam as he looked for the source of the voice. Before he could process it, a rock slammed into the beast's head, bouncing off and landing on the ground. It looked unfazed by it. But for a second, it glanced towards the source.

Horror coursed through his blood. This was his chance. Quentin sprung up and took off across the field into the mine without looking back, equally thankful, and worried for the person dumb enough to do that. An angry shout alerted him that it was still after him. His throat tightened. 

There was no outrunning it. 

Taking a hard right into the mine he saw it. A locker. Quentin dove for it without a second thought.

A second later the beast sprinted past his locker weapon raised and slamming into the ground. Another angry shout. _Damn. That’s annoying._ His heart pounded violently in his ears.

The monster turned back looking at the locker, eyes glowing red in the dark. 

_Go away._ He chanted the words like a mantra in his head. Begging. Pleading for it to leave. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

The beast reached for the handle. _No no no! Please god just leave. Go away. Go away!_

The sudden urge to vomit overwhelmed him. Sweat clinging to his skin. Quentin clasped his hand over his mouth suddenly aware of how loud he was breathing. 

The sound of an explosion in the distance caught it’s attention. It released the handle and sprinting off towards the sound. 

Relief washed over him in waves. The sick feeling not gone yet. Near silence aside from his breathing and a steady dripping sound. 

_Wait. Dripping?_ He couldn’t see anything when he looked down. Far too dark to be able to see the source of the sound. Quentin reached down to his side and pain shot through him like lightning. He brought the hand up close to his face in the dark. A dark liquid coating it. Blood. He let out a shuddery breath, “Fuck.”

He reached down again to assess the damage more thoroughly this time. _3\. No 4 broken ribs. A deep gash from-_ He sucked in air and ground his teeth down. _A deep gash from my left side to the right shoulder. Not a clean cut, deeper in some spots than others._ Anxiety welling deep his stomach. _I can’t fix a broken rib midtrial. We have 2 generators left. I'm on death hook. If I just lay low it’ll be fine… but It’ll only slow us down if I try to escape too. Someone might die trying to help me. So I should just..._ He didn’t finish that thought. Dwelling on the inevitable.

Quentin reached for his medkit only to find nothing. He patted his side finding nothing there too. He squatted carefully to get closer to the bottom of the locker. The action excruciatingly painful. His knees bumped against the door louder than he would have liked. He quickly swept his hand along the bottom of the locker only to find, once again, nothing.

He racked his brain for where it might be when it suddenly struck him. 

_No. I dropped it when he hit me._ Fear and anger shot through him. It was followed shortly by the urge to cry. He was going to sit here and bleed out. He couldn’t get out yet. He could still hear his heart pounding. 

Like instinct, they all knew when they came into the fog what the heartbeat meant. The same way rabbits instinctively ran from wolves. 

If he got out now it would mean death. _But, if I run, I might make it back to where I dropped it._

He moved to stand and his entire body cried out in pain. _I can’t. Oh god I can’t do it._

His breathing picked up as he forced himself to stand through sheer willpower alone. Angry tears threatened to spill out.

_Damn it. If it’s between bleeding out here or being beat to death out there, I’ll take my chances with dying out there._

Quentin planted his hand flat against the door and pushed. 

Footsteps echoed loudly through the mineshaft. He froze. The sound kept getting closer.

 _Wait-_

The door slammed open. His heart leapt into his throat and his eyes opened wide in panic. His throat closed up and only a gasping wheeze came out. 

Shock crossed the other person's face. 

Another person. Not the demon. 

That newish guy. The guy who came with the Demogorgon. The one with the big hair and stupid sailor outfit. _What was his name again...Steve?_ He couldn’t remember. The blood loss was catching up with him and he felt like he would collapse at any second. 

Steve(?) stood in shock staring at him for what felt like minutes. 

An angry roar caused Steve to snap out of it and he shoved himself into the locker, forcibly knocking into Quentin in the process. Quentin let out a weak cry of protest as the locker shut encasing them both in darkness.

A chaotic shuffle of limbs broke out. 

“Move over-!”

“What are you doing!? You’re gonna get us _killed._ ” 

Quentin hissed out the words as he took an elbow to the side. Right in his ribs. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to scream. 

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“Shhhh!”

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._ Both boys fell silent as the red stain appeared through the grate in the locker. In the red light, He could see Steve’s face clearly. A sweaty sort of panic as he stared at the grate. Their limbs tangled up and Steve clutching onto his jacket with a death grip. 

Seconds passed as they held their breath. The heavy breathing of the monster just a few feet from them. As quick as the red light had shown over them it passed. 

Quentin remembered to breathe only after he could no longer hear that _thing’s_ breathing.

Steve finally let go of him, sucking in a sharp breath. Silence overtook them again leaving them with a strange we-almost-died-kind-of-awkward feeling in the air. 

That dripping sound was still there. Nausea overtook him again and Quentin suddenly felt like his legs were made of lead. Struggling to stand he grabbed at Steve’s arm earning a shocked noise from him.

“Hey- Hey! Easy there.”

Steve shifted suddenly propping him up against his side as he shuffled with something in the dark. Quentin’s head lolled to the side as he squinted to see what he was doing. _Isn’t that…?_

“Is that my medkit?”

“Yeah. I found it on the ground.” 

Steve shifted again wrapping an arm around him and moved to open the locker.

“C’mon. I can’t patch you up in here.”

Steve pushed against the door and it made a _clank clank_ sound. He pushed the door again and it made the sound again. _clank._ With more urgency, he pushed on the door in quick succession. _clank. clank. clank._

“H-Hey. I think we’re stuck. You try.”

Quentin pushed the door weakly. _Yeah. No. We are stuck._

Steve turned his body and with the little room they had, he shoved his shoulder hard against the door. _BANG._ He pulled back to do it again and Quentin grabbed him in time, speaking in a harsh whisper.

“What are you doing now?!” 

“Getting us out of here…? What does it look like I’m doing?” 

“No. Stop that. It might come back.” 

Steve let out a little oh as it dawned on him how stupid that was. He shifted again jostling Quentin in the process and earning a pained groan from him. An almost inaudible _click_ and the _scritch scritch_ as Steve unrolled the bandages and unpacked the medkit to the best of his ability in the limited space. 

_“Sorry. Can you lift your shirt?”_

A sudden nervous feeling bubbled up in his chest. _He’ll see it._ A deep anxious pit formed in his stomach. _Maybe he won’t. It is really dark._ He sucked in a deep breath and with his free arm shrugged the jacket off and gripped the bottom of his shirt and lifted it. _Please. Don’t say anything._ He could just barely see Steve in the dark. The sailor hat illuminated in the fake moonlight. If he noticed the old slash shaped scar, he didn’t say anything. Instead he got to work inspecting the damage. 

“Sorry. I should have brought a flashlight.” A cold hand touched his side, gingerly applying pressure, and Quentin mentally fought back the accompanying sting. Forcing himself to breathe. “Damn,” Steve pulled his hand back. “I think you broke some ribs. I can’t do anything for that.” 

_Broken bones aren’t unheard of here, but Steve may not have come across one yet. He’s only been here a little under 2 months. Bear traps sometimes did it but it was rare that a killer could._

He heard him uncap a bottle in the dark. Steve paused, “This might sting.” 

“So…” Quentin sucked in sharply when the disinfectant caused his chest to sting, “Did you see who threw the rock?” 

Steve paused for a second letting a chuckle slip out, “Yeah. Yeah I did.” He tapped steadily at the wound with the cotton gauze. “Because I threw the rock.” 

Quentin's face twisted into a confusion, “You threw it?” 

“Yeah, yeah I did. That guy, Adam, he taught me how to do it, but I think he meant to use it as a distraction not as a weapon.” 

This time Quentin laughed. “What is wrong with you?” He said. 

Steve huffed under his breath, shifting to wrap the bandages around the shorter man’s torso. “Why are you complaining? It worked didn’t it?” 

“Yeah. But that _thing_ is a literal 7ft tall demon.” In the moonlight, He could see Steve’s face scrunch up, clearly offended. “So?” 

“So? That’s it? You’re insane.” 

Steve let out a snort and awkwardly leaned into him to secure the bandage in place. Knees knocking together in the process. “I’ve fought things worse than that.” Silence fell over them as Steve continued to work. A mutual understanding between them. 

_I wonder what kind of demons you’ve fought that made you think that thing was a walk in the park._ He pulled tight on the bandage and Quentin wheezed. “Sorry. Gotta make sure it won’t come loose.” Steve frowned as he spoke. 

“Steve?” Steve made an affirmative noise as he finished securing the bandage. 

“That’s your name right?” Steve paused to look at him incredulously, “Yeah?” A confused smile. In all his messy haired and scraped cheeks glory. _Huh. You don’t look so stupid up close._

“Hey, Hey.” He waved his hand in front of Quentin’s face, “Earth to Quentin.” He leaned impossibly close, noses nearly bumping in the process. _A blue sailor suit and matching white hat. He looks like one of those paintings you would see in a doctor's office. Oh shit. He said something and I missed it._

He blurted out, “What did you say?” 

Steve let out a confused noise. He leaned in and gripped Quentin’s shoulders. 

“I said, do you feel sick or something?”  
“I mean- yeah a little.”  
“What’s 5+5?”  
“10. What-”  
“Spell your name.” He stared blankly up at him. _What is he doing?_

Steve impatiently snapped his fingers in front of Quentin’s face, punctuating each word with an extra snap for good measure. “Focus. Quentin.” “Q-u-e-n-t-i-n.” 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief and reached out and thumped Quentin on the nose. 

“Ow- Jerk. What was that for?!” Quentin reached up grabbing his face in shock. 

Steve leaned back. He snorted and quickly covered his face with a hand. _Is this asshole laughing at me?_

Steve took a deep breath and composed himself, “I was checking for a concussion. You were acting weird.” 

Quentin let out a frustrated huff, “You didn’t have to be an ass about it.” Steve opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of a generator popping in the distance. Silent again as they listened. 

Steve pushed the locker door. _clank._ “Yeah. No. We really are stuck.” 

Quentin leaned his back against the locker, the dull ache in his ribs ever present, and the urge to sit overtook him. He placed his palm flat against the wall and slid down a few inches before quickly realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The ache turned into a deep pain and his legs threatened to give out from under him. He hissed. 

Quentin didn’t miss the strange look on Steve’s face from his half-bent position. “Here- let me help.” Before he could say anything in protest Steve stooped down and placed his arms under Quentin’s armpits and awkwardly helped him sit. He must have realized that standing back up wasn’t the best idea so Steve sat down too. The space in the locker allowed enough room for both of them to sit at the expense of their knees being pressed up against each other. 

He had never been this close to Steve. Of course, he had seen him around the campfire before but he just never felt the need to speak to him. He’s loud and cocky and normally hung around flirting with Kate or Jane and honestly all Quentin wanted between trials was peace and quiet. He didn’t really want anything to do with some guy who’s full of himself. He had dealt with plenty of them back in Highschool and he wasn’t about to deal with them in hell too. It just rubs him the wrong way. But looking this close, _He’s my age. Scared._ Bent over closing the medkit with a worried look on his face. _I should say something- anything. I mean we might just die here. All because he wanted to help me._ Quentin suddenly felt desperate to fill the silence. 

“What’s with the sailor outfit?” He blurted it out before he could stop himself. A beat of silence. Then the sound of the medkit snapping shut.“Oh, this.” Quentin couldn’t see it but he could feel the smirk in the air. Steve reached up absentmindedly and pulled the hat off, turning it over in his hands. “I used to work at this ice cream shop. Had a pirate theme and I had to wear this.” He motioned at his outfit, “It was called Scoops Ahoy. It was kinda lame.” 

The worry seemed to melt from Steve’s expression with each word he spoke, “But I liked it. I worked the entire summer in that mall. It was boring but Robin made it fun. We had this stupid game where she would keep track of all of the times I failed at flirting. And, Oh man, it was a lot. I even had this stupid pick up line I used. It went like this-” 

"Who's Robin?" Quentin didn’t mean to cut him off but the curiosity was killing him. It was an innocent question but he instantly regretted asking it. 

Steve paused, mouth snapping shut suddenly looking embarrassed. He hesitated for a moment, seemingly caught between two decisions. Finally, he spoke, "Robin was my best friend. She cared about me a lot. She was always there for me and I just..." Steve's voice drifted to a whisper and he looked away from him towards the locker doors, a pained expression painted across his features. His voice shook as he began speaking again, “You know. I don’t know how long I’ve been gone. If Robin’s still looking for me or if Dustin-” A choked sound escaped him and Steve went silent. 

Quentin felt his own chest tighten as his own thoughts drifted to Nancy. _Nancy... You’re still looking for me. I know you haven’t stopped._ His throat tightened and tears threatened to escape. _But you're never going to find me. Dad won’t either._ He chanced a glance at Steve and instantly regretted it. He could just barely see Steve in the dim light but the sight instantly brought back that sick feeling. Steve’s jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut as tears trailed down his face. Steve’s arm brought up at an awkward angle in an attempt to hide his shame. _No one’s going to find us._

“Quentin.” Steve spoke, his voice raw with emotion, “How long have you been here?” 

With no day-night cycle it was hard to track time in the fog. There was no way to tell exactly how long he had been here or for that matter any of them. Just by looking at Steve he could tell that they came from different times. Same with Laurie. Listening to the other survivors like Meg and Feng speak, he knew that he had been here for a long time. 

_How long have I been here…?_

And with that he cried too. 

Air so thick a knife could cut it. The occasional sniffle piercing the air before it fell into silence again. 

Time passed and the last generator popped in the distance but the pair stayed silent, both lost deep in thought. Any sense of a good mood far gone by now. The occasional sniffle piercing the air before it fell into silence again. 

Dwight eventually found them. Dwight had always had the uncanny ability to find others. He didn’t say anything to either boy as they emerged from the locker purposely looking away from each other. Dwight looked between them. He didn’t say anything about their puffy red eyes or ask them what they had been doing. His face drawn in a worried expression as he looked between them and quickly ushered them to the exit gate. 

Bill stood there waiting, injured, giving them a disappointed look. Both boys tear streaked and covered in Quentin’s blood. 

Bill flicked his cigarette, opening his mouth to undoubtedly chew them out when an angry shout cut him off. The sound of drums rose up in the distance. 

Without so much as a single word, they sprinted across the barrier and escaped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that there was barely any Harringsmith out there, so I made some! I really hope it's fine, I haven't done any creative writing in a long time. Enjoy!


	2. Unsleeping

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

The one thing that Quentin was ever thankful for was that everything always went back to normal when you returned from a trial. Physically that is.

Broken bones mended. Bruises disappeared. And any outward evidence of time spent crying in a locker, vanished along with it. However, It didn't get rid of the worried glances Dwight kept throwing his way or his inability to look in Steve’s direction.

_Please god, don't say anything... I can’t handle it right now._

Limbs reappeared first, followed shortly by torsos and heads. Everyone who had gathered by the campfire turned to look at them as they materialized in front of them. Surprise painted their faces. 

The conversation instantly died down.

Claudette spoke up first, voice strained, “...Was it the new killer?”

Despite being the designated leader, Dwight always had trouble addressing the group no matter how much time passed. 16 sets of eyes latched onto them, waiting. 

Dwight swallowed thickly from beside him and cleared his throat, “Yes.”

Hushed whispers erupted from around the campfire.

“A-Alright everyone. Quiet down. I’ll tell you everything. Just please give me a minute.” Dwight looked at the ground nervously collecting his thoughts and then spoke, “The new killer is some kind of demon. About 7 or 8 ft tall. It seems to get its power from our blood and when it gets enough of it it becomes incredibly fast and one hit is enough to incapacitate you. Luckily for us, it shouts as a warning.” 

Something Quentin admired about Dwight was his ability to gather information and retain it. A skill that was incredibly valuable here in the fog. 

“Please take this with a grain of salt, I’ve only been in one trial with him so far, but the strategy we should go with for now is a mix of stealth and avoiding. Heal as soon as possible to deny him blood. Oh- and lockers _seem_ to cancel out his ability.” 

Quentin felt his stomach flip at the mention of lockers. He knew that Dwight wouldn’t throw them under the bus like that, but damn it did it make him nervous for a second there.

The whole group digested the words as silence fell over them. Some like Claudette looked more anxious than ever. Others looked unbothered by the words. 

With a loud clatter, Meg jumped up from where she was sitting nearly tripping over Ace who had been sitting on the ground below her, and let out a loud cheer. Everyone turned to look at her in shock at the sudden outcry.

She stood there for a second, arms outstretched and looked from face to face, clearly confused.

“What? Guys?” Meg looked around in disbelief. When no one else started cheering, She threw her hands up in frustration and pointed to the four of them, “They all made it back together. That means they kicked its ass.”

Another beat of silence.

Feng jumped up and let out a victory shout, “Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” 

Nea seemed to make the same connection and crossed her arms in front of herself and leaned back with a content smile on her face.

The group exploded with energy as the others hopped in to ask them all kinds of questions. 

But he couldn’t process a word of it. From the moment his feet had hit the ground back at the campfire, he had felt exhausted in a way he couldn’t describe. Like a deep ache within him.

He felt someone suddenly clap him on the shoulder. David gave him a big smile and a thumbs up, “See? I knew you ‘ad it in you. Didn’t know you were right ‘ard one.”

“Y-Yeah. Thanks?” Quentin gave a small smile in return, “I’m going to go sit down now. I’ll talk to you later?” 

“I won’t keep you. But you better come an’ play cards with me an’ Ace later.” 

“I will.” Quentin held up his hands and backed away.

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

Quentin slipped away from the group and walked towards the woods. His item stash was located just a short walk into the woods next to a stump. Everyone had a stash.

Claudette kept her stuff out by a small garden she cultivated since she spent so much time out there. David kept his right at the edge of the clearing. _Probably wanting to keep it near in case he was called into a trial._

No one knew where Jake kept his, just that when it was time for a trial he would sprint off into the woods and later appear in trial with a fully stocked toolbox.

Meg and Ace had a running bet that whoever found Jake's stash first could have first dibs on anything in Ace’s stash.

Unlike other survivors, Quentin didn’t have much. All he had was a small stash of medkits, a couple flashlights, and a single skeleton key he refused to use. He won it playing cards against Ace. It really felt like Ace had thrown the game so that he would win, since he had already won 5 games in a row and Tapp had looked like he wanted to murder him. He just didn’t know why Ace would choose him. Regardless, the key is lucky and he couldn’t use it and wind up losing it. So it sat there. Unused.

Using the sleeve of his jacket, he swept the dirt and leaves off the stump and sat down. A wave of exhaustion hit him and he felt himself nearly crumple under the weight of it. 

_I can’t remember the last time I slept._

Slumping over and rubbing his eyes only minimally eased the discomfort.

He had realized fairly quickly that he didn’t need sleep in the realm. He wouldn’t die without it here so he pushed himself further and further each time. The adrenaline boost and the fear of dying in trials helped. The coffee that Claudette made from her garden helped. But when he was alone and finally able to relax, it felt like sinking in mud. Clawing desperately but never finding purchase. Sinking.

_I’ll feel so much better if I rest my eyes for a second._

Shifting ever so slightly, He laid his head on his legs. A shaky breath leaving his lips as he wrapped his arms around his head. 

_I won’t fall asleep. I’ll be careful._

A sigh escaped his lips.

It felt good. Really good. 

The tension in his muscles melting away each second he laid with his head in his lap. Like a heavy fog rolling over his body. Slow breaths streaming out of him as his eyelids fluttered shut. It felt like the world was falling away from him. His chest rising and falling into a rhythm. The sound of swing chains and children laughing.

He sat up with a jolt, gasping for air. 

_Fuck. You can’t do that._

His hands shook violently as his heart raced in his chest. His fingers found the pendant around his neck and he gripped desperately onto it like a lifeline. Prayers slipping haphazardly from his lips as he fumbled it. 

His heart beat erratically like a drum inside of him.

“Quentin? You out here?”

A loud crunching sound and heavy footsteps.

_Great._

Quentin looked up in time to see Steve emerge from the bushes struggling to push branches out of the way. He sat on the stump watching him carefully. A branch caught on his shirt nearly knocking him off balance and he struggled to free himself. Steve looked up suddenly at him, a cheesy grin spread across his face, “Hey!” 

He leaned down to brush himself off, “So this is where your stash is, it’s kind of a cool spot if you ask me. Way better than mine.”

“What are you doing out here?”

Steve looked down at him, “Well I mean I had to give this back somehow.” He lifted his arm and gestured at the medkit in his hands, “Unless you want me to keep it.” 

Quentin glanced over at his stash and then back at the medkit in Steve’s hands. He sighed.

“If you need it, you can keep it.”

Steve glanced over at his stash this time, “Looks like you need it more than I do. Here.” 

He stepped forward crushing more leaves underfoot and offered the medkit back. “I went ahead and restocked it with the good stuff too.” A hint of pride in his voice as he spoke.

The medkit felt heavy in his hands. Flipping it over he opened it up with a snap. Gel dressings packed in neatly next to a pair of medical scissors. That sinking feeling in his stomach came back full force.

An awkward silence fell over them as he stared down into the medkit. 

Quentin looked up at him, “If this is about what happened,” The bags under his eyes more apparent than ever, “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell anyone.” He snapped the medkit shut and held it up for him, “I promise.”

“No no, I- What?” Steve put his hands up defensively, “It’s not about that.”

They looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, the medkit held in suspension between them, before Steve inhaled and spoke, “Do you think this is about that?” 

Quentin rubbed his face frustratedly trying to find the words but his brain was failing him. He took a breath in and tried again, “...I mean why would you do this then? We never really spoke before today, so it just seems sort of-” He waved his free hand in the air, “kind of weird?” He shoved the medkit.

Steve pushed back, “Weird? You’re the one being weird. Just take it back.”

Quentin let out a frustrated noise, “I’m the one being weird? You followed me out here.”

“Listen to me,” Steve spoke firmly, “I’m giving it back to you because I’m being nice. Now take the medkit before I decide to keep it.”

The two struggled for a second before Quentin, defeated, set the medkit back in his lap. He didn’t get it. If it were anyone else they would have just called it a day and kept the medkit. _Okay. Maybe Claudette would have given it back. But Steve? He has no reason too._

Steve stood there looking down at him, looking a mix of frustrated and offended. His mouth twitched like he might say something, but he instead huffed and looked away. 

He looked back at Quentin finally gaining the nerve to say what was on his mind, “...Look, I can just go if I’m making you uncomfortable.” 

“What?” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. _Why would he think that? God I… I’m really fucking things up._ Quentin mentally poured over his words, trying hard to find anything he could have said to have given him that impression. He bit his lip as his eyebrows drew together in thought.

Steve stood there staring at him. Waiting for an answer. 

His head spun and the sick feeling steadily grew.

Steve sighed and put his hands on his hips, “Dude. You look like shit and you obviously don’t want me here. I’m not that stupid.” 

Quentin threw his hands up stammering, “I...that’s not it.” 

Steve stared at him looking stunned. He had to say something else. Anything to get him to believe him. Quentin opened his mouth to speak, “No, seriously. I’m okay-” 

Steve abruptly cut him off,“-Excuse me? You look like you haven’t slept in _years,_ like you really look like shit.” 

Now the words stung. _Was it that obvious?_ “You really don’t have to say it like that.”

“Listen, I don’t care if you hate me or what but-” Steve looked beyond frustrated with the conversation, his face drawn in a tight expression as he spoke.

“If you want to talk about what happened after you get some sleep, just let me know. Don’t just-” He frustratedly waved his hands, “Bottle it up.” 

Steve didn’t wait this time and turned to leave. Twigs snapping as he walked away. 

Quentin looked down at the medkit in his hands. If Steve didn’t hate him before, he probably does now. He really didn’t need to do any of this. Steve went out of his way to come out here and give it back and what did he do in return? Act like an asshole. Guilt seeped in. _God damn it. I’m an idiot._

“Wait.”

Quentin stood up unsteadily. The action made him dizzier than he cared to admit and he stumbled. Steve tensed in response but Quentin quickly regained his balance. Any courage that he had seconds ago faded as he watched as Steve stood at the tree line. Waiting. His mouth felt like a desert but he knew he had to say the words on his mind. The words would fester and eat away at him if he didn’t. 

“I don’t hate you,” A burning feeling rose in his throat as the words passed his lips, “...and I’m sorry if I made it seem like that.” 

A crow cawed deep in the woods. The seconds stretched on in agony. Steve paused midstep. The bushes rustled as he turned to face him fully. The distant campfire illuminated his form in a warm glow. The tight expression melted away from his face, “Yeah man. Don’t worry about it.” 

Relief flooded over him. _That’s good._ Quentin’s hand once again found the pendant that swung from his neck. 

Steve snapped suddenly and pointed menacingly at Quentin causing him to jump. His voice stern, “Now I _mean it._ Get some rest. You look like a zombie.” He flashed him one last playful grin and ducked under a branch disappearing, leaving Quentin once again alone. 

Quentin sat back down with a hard slump. His heart beating steadily in his chest. He pulled the beanie off, tossing it onto the ground, and ran both hands through his hair. Sleep would be impossible. He felt wide awake now.

_I don’t get it. I really don’t get it._

\-----------------------------------------------

Yui Kimura. That’s the new girl’s name. He hadn’t directly spoken to her yet but it seems like after the initial shock from the realm wore off she seemed confident. Shaken but steadfast and ready to take on whatever came her way. It gave Quentin hope for her. 

The first few weeks were always the hardest.

Dwight and Adam, with the addition of Ace’s sly remarks, gave Yui a rundown of any of the killers she would inevitably encounter and what to do. Unable to contain her excitement anymore, Meg stole Yui away and attempted to teach her how to loop the killers with surprisingly good charades. The poor girl had looked confused at all of the terminology that Meg slung at her but she played along pretty well. Meg even somehow convinced Nea to ‘pretend’ to chase her. Which just ended up in Kate putting an end to the roughhousing when Meg elbowed Nea in the face.

Trials went by and Yui got pulled over and over again. It was common when someone new entered for the Entity to call them to trial constantly until it seemingly got bored. Like a hazing.

Quentin never got around to speaking to Steve. It’s not like he didn’t _try._ The timing was just always wrong. He would return from a trial and Steve would be speaking to others. Or Steve would be in a trial. Or Quentin had a bad trial and forgot about it completely. 

He had also never got around to getting any rest. 

“Quentin.”

He blinked and looked over to see Laurie staring him down.

“Yeah?” 

“I was just checking to make sure you were still there. You’ve been staring at the fire for a while now and it was starting to freak me out.” She cleared her throat, “Are you okay?”

“Oh. Sorry- I didn’t mean to worry you. I was just thinking about some stuff.”

She eyed him with doubt but didn’t question him any further. 

He turned his attention back to the fire. It crackled with the occasional pop thrown in. It was predictable at this point. Like many things in the realm, it was an imperfect fake. One time, before anyone had known that the fire was fake, Ace had said “Hey watch this,” and shoved his hand into the fire to everyone's horror. Now he did it every time someone new appeared in the fog. Quentin smiled remembering when Ace had done it to Jeff. It had scared the man so bad that he had tackled Ace so hard that Ace’s hat flew off. 

He looked up past the campfire to the people on the other side. Jeff sat talking with Kate on the ground, occasionally stopping to gesture at the guitar in her hands. Jane, Meg, and Tapp sat speaking together near the middle.

Nancy and Steve sat near the end of the log talking. Sitting is a strong word. Nancy was sitting. Steve was half-sitting half-leaning against the log. And just then, Quentin noticed something he hadn’t before. The two never really sat together so it was so easy to miss but there it was. Clear as day.

Steve wasn’t doing that thing he normally did when talking to girls. That look-how-cool-I-am attitude just wasn’t there. He sat there next to Nancy actually appearing to listen to what she was saying.

It was weird. Now that he thought about it _...Didn’t they appear in the fog together too?_

He had never paid much mind to Steve to begin with, but Nancy? They had been in a few trials together but he never really spoke to her. He never really had a reason so he didn’t. It was just strange watching them talk and seeing Steve act so _normal._

“Trial!”

Quentin snapped out of his stupor when Tapp called out. He noticed that all too familiar burning sensation trickling up his arm. He looked down in time to see his arm fading away. _Guess it’s my turn._

Quentin looked up to see Nancy suddenly stop talking when Steve pointed down at her already gone legs. 

_So it’s definitely me, Nancy, and Tapp. The 4th must be someone who isn’t here._

He wasn’t able to finish the thought as he finished burning out of existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun for me to write. I haven't written anything dialogue-heavy in a while so I got to stretch some old muscles. I did a lot of research on the Manchester accent and I learned a whole lot of terms I'm confident that I will never use in daily conversation. Also if anyone from Manchester or the UK sees this, I am truly sorry if I fucked up the accent.
> 
> Life has been kind of wild for me lately so I missed my personal deadline by a couple of days, but don't worry, I haven't forgotten. Expect new chapters to post near the end of the month/beginning of the month.
> 
> Happy Late Halloween/Turkey day!


	3. A Girl Named Nancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Krueger is a disgusting man
> 
> Will add notes.

_This place. Great._ Badham Preschool. Nancy nervously chewed on her lip as she materialized in the middle of the street, mind already racing with thoughts. Something about Badham put a bad taste in her mouth. The rundown halls and children's drawings that laid loose on the floors. A playground that was in a constant state of disrepair. Overgrown grass. An overwhelming innate feeling of wrongness.

 _Stay focused. You can do this._ She forced herself to move forward towards a generator in the school yard. A risky choice but one that would prove rewarding if she could get it done fast. The Preschool was nearby so if push came to shove, she could run there. 

She hugged the fence as she walked, eyes darting over the decrepit yard. No sign of anyone or the killer yet. Nancy took a deep breath and began working on the generator. The generator slowly began sparking to life under her finger tips. Wires that hung over the yard above her emitted electricity in loud crackling pops and the lights lit up the area in quick flashes. 

The grass beside her rustled and she paused for a moment to look up. Tapp crouched forward through the grass with a finger raised to his lips. He quickly pointed over his shoulder at something. She leaned around the generator to look and her stomach sank immediately. A dresser. Sitting there plain as day at the back of the school.

Leave it to Tapp to figure out who it was so quickly. _I should ask him how he does that sometime._ But now wasn’t the time for that. Nancy refocused her efforts on the generator and Tapp joined her. Seconds ticked by and she felt a subtle pulling at her subconscious, like a gentle tug at the back of her mind. Almost comforting. Her eyelids felt so heavy. Suddenly, it felt like something grabbed her and violently pulled her underwater.

Nancy knew what was happening. This wasn’t her first Krueger trial.

The world began to grey around her, feathers and ash lightly rained down from the sky. A distant hum and her movements began to slow. 

Ultimately, Krueger was no different than a normal nightmare. Running as hard as you can only to find that you’ve moved only a few feet. Thinking you’ve outrun something only for it to appear right in front of you. Not real, just like any other nightmare. Even if it felt real, it wasn’t. That was the only thing that brought any comfort to her. 

Nancy glanced over to see that Tapp had fallen asleep too. His hands moving as if he were underwater. A deep frown on his face as he focused on connecting the correct wires. The 4th piston began to move as the generator grew louder. Still no sign of Krueger aside from the distant lullaby. _Good. Keep it that way._

The generator crackled to life and the lights above it lit fully. _4 more to go._

A guttural scream broke through the air as the lullaby got louder. _The other David._

Tapp and Nancy quickly ducked behind the lit generator in time to see David in a full sprint down the street, the Nightmare hot on his trail. A deep laugh emitting out of the monster as he raised a gloved hand and swung at David only to nail a car with a loud metal _thump_ , missing the big guy entirely as he dashed forward. David howled with laughter, “You’re gonna have to try ‘arder than that if you want to ‘it me!” An angry sigh left Krueger as he picked up the pace to close the growing distance again. 

Tapp waved suddenly and pointed towards the shack, silently urging her to follow him.

It was common to go an entire trial without speaking to other survivors. Most people opted to gesture or point instead. They slipped past a burning barrel and into Shack.

They made quick work of the generator. Working on it in complete silence other than the sounds of the pistons coming to life and the ambience that the Nightmare’s world created around them. Neither wanting to speak. She sighed deeply. If the generators kept popping at the rate they were, they would be out of here before no time. 

A scream tore through Badham as David was downed.

Nancy's fingers slipped and the wires sparked causing the generator to explode. Her fingers burned in response. He knew they were here now. 

Blood began to gush out of the generator spraying her and Tapp in a thick red mist. She had let her mind wander and it was going to cost them both. She only had a few seconds to react.

The generator was so close. Her body woke up and she felt like she could move unrestrained again. There was no use letting go now.

Nancy shoved her hands back into the generator, heart pounding violently in her chest as the monster took shape next to them. Tapp yelled as Krueger lunged at him, his blades catching the detective from his shoulder to his elbow. Her fingers buzzed and the pistons roared above her. A few more seconds and she would have it. Tapp sprinted for the window and threw himself out of it in one clean motion, barely missing Krueger’s lunge, the blades scraping loudly on the window. 

The generator burst to life as the room fully lit up. 

Krueger slowly turned to look at her with an almost surprised look. Nancy squatted there suddenly feeling smaller than she had ever felt before, crouching behind the generator. Something inside of her screamed at her to run but it’s like her legs had weights in them. She peered out from behind the generator to see Krueger staring at her from the window with a look mixed with equal parts pride and irritation. Then almost like a switch flicking, his face morphed into something akin to recognition. A deep laugh spilling out of him as he stepped forward in a fluid motion, “Little Nancy. I can see you.” 

The pistons in the generator were deafening as she watched him approach, eyeing her with fascination, “Let’s play a different game since hide-and-seek isn’t your strong suit. I’m thinking...” He lifted his hand purposely scraping the blades together as he did so, “Tag.” 

In one swift movement, Krueger sprung forward and slammed the clawed fist into the generator. Barely missing Nancy’s face by a few inches. 

The weighted feeling left her body in an instant and her instincts were sent into overdrive as she bolted out of the shack, heart beating rapidly in her chest. Nancy knew without looking behind her that Krueger was only a few feet away from her. Any distance she could have made from him was lost from committing to the generator. Her eyes darted rapidly across the yard as she crossed the street heading in the direction of the school, _Anything. Anything to make distance. I need to-_

A scream ripped out of her as the blades tore into her back and she shot forward with enough force to cross the threshold of the preschool. Falling asleep as the telltale lullaby surrounded her. Krueger’s deep laugh echoed down the hall after her.

Nancy had dealt with plenty of gross men. All kinds of comments and gross behaviours. But this was different and something she was unequipped to deal with. Krueger was an entirely different breed of disgusting.

Crushing children’s drawings and leaves underfoot as she sprinted through the building. Taking a sharp left down the hall as Krueger closed the distance again. A huge hole separated the sides of the school. The pallet to the right was gone. So she really only had one choice.

Without hesitating, Nancy leaped. _Please. Don’t let the basement be here._

As she sailed through the air the next few seconds felt like minutes. Krueger lunged forward giving her a hard shove to her lower back. Blinding pain as his blades cut deep rivets into her. A scream. The sound of a generator being worked on below her. Panic as the muscles in her legs gave out and Nancy knew that she wouldn’t be able to catch herself in time. Her ponytail came undone and she watched as her hair tie rocketed off into a nearby wall as she fell the last 8ft to the ground. 

All of the wind knocked out her body as she hit the ground stomach first. The resulting force caused her face to smack into the ground. Groaning involuntarily as she lifted herself up. This only caused the room to spin around her. She finally saw the figure still hunched over a generator. _God. I’m such an idiot._

Wires still in hand, Quentin looked up at her through half-lidded eyes. Seemingly processing what he was seeing on a delay as if he didn’t really believe what he was seeing. She could physically see the gears grinding to a halt as his eyes went wide. “N-Nancy?” 

Krueger then hit the ground between them. Perfectly balanced as if he had only taken a step down a flight of stairs. His voice felt like it was everywhere and nowhere all at once. Like it was inside of her head. “You’re it.”

Nancy forced herself to look up at Quentin, blood spilling out of her split chin. Quentin let go of the generator as he suddenly recognized the danger they were both in. With considerable effort, she attempted to speak but her voice came out in nothing but a nearly soundless squeak, “I’m sorry.”

Krueger turned to look at Quentin then, casting him in a faint red light. Fear morphing on Quentin’s face as he stumbled backwards attempting to dodge the attack but nowhere near fast enough. Krueger caught him in one wide swipe across the chest sending him flying backwards into the flaming pipes. He screamed in a way she had never heard before. Ear-piercing. Her heart stopped beating as she looked on in horror at the scene unfolding before her. 

Quentin never seemed truly scared in a trial. He always had a look of determination and offered words of encouragement while he patched up wounded teammates. He ran headlong into killers without a second thought if it meant he could save someone from the hook.

But this scream. It was something else. A scream of complete and utter terror. 

Nancy may have been in Krueger trials before but in that moment she realized she had never been in one with Quentin. Never knew he would react so strongly to Krueger. Standing there against the pipes, he looked more and more like a cornered animal as vital seconds passed. Eyes darting wildly around the room and chest rising and falling quickly. All she could do was stare in shock as Krueger flicked Quentin’s blood off his claws like a true predator. 

And Nancy screamed. Dragging herself up onto her elbows, voice hoarse as she desperately screamed at him, “RUN!”

Quentin bolted then, barely missing the blades as they hit the pipes where his head would have been sending sparks flying. His loud frantic footsteps echoed down the hall as Krueger took off after him.

The pipes spit steam in loud hisses. And then Quentin was downed too. She couldn’t physically see it but she knew it when she heard him yelp. Guilt pooled inside of her. She looked up to see the second piston idly pumping in the generator. _How could I be so stupid?_

Krueger walked back around the corner carting Quentin on his shoulder as if weighed nothing. Quentin struggled, slamming his fists into Krueger’s shoulders as he disappeared down the stairs. 

_A basement within a basement._

Quentin's scream echoed and bounced off the walls as he was hooked. 

Nancy laid her head down on the cool concrete and willed herself to think of anything else. Anything other than the clear hard fact that she was next. 

_The blankets pooled up to her chin as she stared at the ceiling. That ugly popcorn texture that every home seemed to have staring right back at her. No matter how hard she stared at it she couldn’t shake that feeling. That terror that she couldn’t push out of her mind. How close she had come to dying. Her first real brush with danger. The otherworldly. And it scared her. Scared her more than anything she had ever dealt with before._

_“Can you just come up here?” Her voice sounded distant. Unlike her own. Like a stranger in her own room. No answer but the rustle of blankets. She glanced over wondering if she had even spoken loud enough for him to hear her. But there he was. The bed dipped beside her as Jonathan laid down next to her, careful not to disturb her. Awkward silence enveloped them as they lay there next to each other._

_The blanket rustled as Jonathan moved attempting to get comfortable but he eventually gave up and just lay there on his back. “Do you want the lights off or... on?” His voice trailed off as he spoke, somehow already knowing what the answer would be before she could speak. She balled the blanket up in her fists. Heart pounding. She wanted nothing more than to pull the blanket over her head._

_“You know it can’t get us in here.” His voice spoke unsteadily. The words should have comforted her. But they didn’t. She knew without looking that he felt the same way too. That they didn’t know that. That that...thing could appear at any time and rip them to shreds._

_“We don’t know that.”_

A scream ripped out her as the hook pierced the flesh of her shoulder creating a horrid deep burning sensation. Her hands instinctively grabbed at the hook in agony as she writhed on the hook. No matter how many times she got hooked, the pain never got anymore tolerable even if she knew that it was coming.

Krueger threw one last wayward glance at the pair as they hung on the hooks. He laughed deeply and stalked up the stairs out of sight. The childlike lullaby following him and growing distant and becoming nothing more than a hum. 

A deep groan from the hook behind her caused Nancy to snap out of her thoughts. Her head whipped back suddenly remembering that Quentin was down here too. 

He was on the back hook and she was on the front hook. She couldn’t turn her head far enough to truly see him, only able to turn her head a little more than 45° without much pain, but if she turned her head just a little further and looked out of the corner of her eye she could just barely see him. Hanging there limply, staring at the floor. His head bent and eyes closed as he mumbled. _He’s probably pretty pissed off._

“...Quentin?” His head lifted and turned just enough that she could see part of his face. He looked so painfully exhausted. The guilt began to eat at her again.“I’m sorry. You wouldn’t be down here if it wasn’t for me.”

“It’s okay.” He spoke in a voice barely audible above the eerie ever present rumbling of the basement.

They fell back into silence as Tapp screamed in the distance. Another hook. David had to have gotten up by now. It was all up to him. 

The basement seemed to groan around them. Stairs creaking like a settling house. It sent a shiver up her spine. The steady dripping of blood as it pooled on the floor below them as they hung there bleeding. The glowing between the cracks in the walls that moved with the creaking. _Almost like…_ “Hey.” Her voice hoarse as she spoke, “It kind of looks like the walls are breathing.” 

“Huh…?” Quentin’s head lifted again, “No. I’ve never noticed that before.” 

They both seemingly decided to attempt to twist their bodies to get a better look at the walls. Moving caused a sharp pain to shoot down her arm so she stopped. Nancy took a mental note to get a better look at the walls in the next trial.

After struggling to look for some time, Quentin finally gave up trying to get a good look and let out a deep sigh, “I’ve been hooked down here hundreds of times and I’ve never noticed that before.” 

Hundreds of times? Another shiver went down her spine. She had been hooked in the basement more than a few times herself...but hundreds of times? How many times had Quentin been hooked? _No wonder he looks so worn down. There’s no telling how many times he’s died. How many times he’s been ripped apart and strangled... Am I gonna look like that?_

“You don’t have to answer this,” Quentin spoke up with a voice laced with thinly veiled worry, “but what did you do before...?” _The Fog. Before the Fog._

“I wrote for a local newspaper… The Hawkins Post. I hated that place.” She quickly corrected herself, “The people. Not the job.” _...“Nancy Drew.”_ She felt her face scrunch up in disgust remembering how mortifying it felt to work there. So many times she had wanted to deck her ‘superior’ in the face for calling her that. 

A chill grew present in the air as the spidery legs of the entity took shape around Quentin but he seemed unbothered by it and instead responded to her, “Journalism? That’s pretty cool.” 

Nancy looked away knowing that any moment it would fully take shape and attack him, “What about you?” 

“Oh I…” He looked away as his voice clearly gave away how embarrassed he was, “I dropped out of High school.” _A High school drop-out._

David screamed in the distance. The last hook. 

The silence grew between them as they both came to the same realization. Escape would be impossible now. 

Nancy spoke this time, “You know, There’s nothing wrong with that. I know plenty of people who dropped out.”

“Yeah... I had no other choice. Things were kind of hectic when I was taken-” 

Whatever he was going to say next died in his throat as the clawed talon shot down at him. Quentin grunted involuntarily as he caught it just in time. The claw coming within a few inches of impaling him. Out of the corner of her eye, She could see his arms shaking as he struggled to keep the entity at bay. A tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned to look back at her. “We’ll be back at the campfire soon...and out of here. I just wish I could have saved you guys… I’ll try harder next time, okay?”

She looked up to see the spider like appendages of the entity begin to appear around her. It wouldn’t be long now. There was a low chance any of them would escape now. 

A distant boom echoed through the trial.

But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Taking a deep breath, Nancy raised her arms above her head and grabbed onto the hook. She only had one shot at this so she had to make it count.

Attempting to pull yourself off the hook was horribly painful and would almost always guarantee a faster death. The entity was cruel and unforgiving in that way. The chance was so low that only few had done it successfully. 

Using all of her remaining strength, she pulled hard. She felt the hook slide backwards out of her flesh scraping the bone of her shoulder. The pain only fueled by her anger. She screamed and pulled herself harder. _I am not going to die here…!_

The hook slid out of her back in one swift motion and she landed on her feet stumbling. Blood spilling down her back as the wound ached.

Quentin’s head jerked to the side as he saw her land on the ground, his mouth dropping in shock. “Nancy!”

Nancy forced herself to stand, legs shaking violently under her. Another boom in the distance.

She stumbled towards Quentin and grabbed onto him. The talon pulled back, allowing for Nancy to grab him. Blood spilled down Quentin’s shirt as the hook left his body and he was ripped off of the hook and out of the entity's grasp. The two struggled to stand as they stood there holding the other in shock.

Quentin spoke first as the shock wore off and reality set in, “...You need to go find hatch.” 

His voice quivered as he continued to speak betraying how he felt. “ It’s impossible for us to both escape. There’s still 2 generators left. I’ll run him for as far as I can and make as much noise as I can to make sure he stays on me-” _He’s scared. He doesn’t want to die._

Nancy grabbed his arm and his eyes immediately shot to hers, “You’re not going to sacrifice yourself for me.”

Quentin immediately recoiled, shaking her off of him, “No! You don’t get it. I’m not going to make it.” His eyebrows knit together as he slumped forward. Looking defeated already. _I’m not going to let you die down here._

Nancy walked with a new found determination to the chest that sat in the corner of the basement. 

Despite having a lock, it didn’t require a key to open. The entity had a strange way of getting most things right but getting the minor details wrong. Like a lock requiring a key. She heard a shuffling noise behind her as Quentin stepped closer to her, “...What are you doing?”

Without meaning too, She snapped at him, “We’re going to find a key. And we’re both going to escape.” 

Quentin stepped back startled by her sudden outburst. The lock suddenly gave and fell off hitting the ground with a loud _clank_. A toolbox. 

Nancy turned and made her way for the stairs, “He’s going to come back as soon as he realizes that we got off the hook. We need to search the rest of the chests.” Quentin opened his mouth to protest but the words died on his tongue as he looked up the stairs and he grabbed Nancy’s arm pulling her backwards.

Nancy looked up and any hope for escape was instantly dashed. 

At the top of the stairs she could just barely see it. A clawed hand tapping against the wall in rhythmic motion. Impatient. A shadow of a man. The dark silhouette grew against the wall as Krueger stepped fully into view. He looked down at them with a frown, "What were you doing down there," he flicked his blades idly, “Playing house?” 

Quentin shifted unsteadily beside her, his hand clenching the bleeding wound on his shoulder, as he stared up at Krueger. Krueger’s eyes flicked back and forth between them like he was connecting some kind of invisible dots. Watching them. Waiting. 

The wound in her shoulder burned deeply. _We need to get past him. But how?_

Krueger stood at the top of the stairs completely blocking their path. The only way they could both make it past him was to get extremely lucky. Or create a distraction. Nancy looked at Quentin and he seemed to have the same thought she did. 

“Hey Krueger…!” Krueger’s eyes instantly latched onto her. Her mouth felt drier than ever as he stared at her with a strange look of hunger. She stepped forward, putting herself between him and Quentin, “I’m still it.” 

Krueger seemed to pour over the words in his head before laughing deeply, “Round 2? I like how you think. Start on 3?” Krueger’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he looked on in pure excitement. His tongue seemed to move with a mind of its own. Like a slimy off green snake. _Oh my god I’m going to vomit._

“And if I catch you...Well you know what happens next.” 

Krueger suddenly pointed at Quentin causing him to visibly shudder, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.”

“1.” 

Nancy breathed in deep as she focused solely on Krueger. Quentin grabbed the wall as he leaned forward preparing to run.

“2.” 

Krueger without warning lunged forward. Nancy and Quentin both slammed into the walls narrowly missing the blades as he swung past them. They both ran up the stairs in a full sprint past Krueger as he laughed. They made it to the ground floor of the Preschool. Nancy couldn’t look behind her. They just had to make it outside. Quentin ran ahead of her. She could hear the light footfalls behind her and it only spurred her on. The red light bathed over her as Quentin made it to the doorway in front of her. Krueger raised his gloved hand up ready to strike. Nancy jerked her body to the side attempting to dodge.

But she wasn’t quick enough.

The blades punctured straight through her shoulder and out the other side. She screamed. Quentin skidded to a stop a few yards in front of her, turning quickly on the balls of his feet. His eyes wide as her body hit the ground hard. He screamed something but she couldn’t process it. 

Pain. Her whole body hurt. A crunching sound behind her as Krueger stepped closer, his shadow looming over her. He crouched down next to her and reached out, resting the hand on her back.

“Tag. You’re it.” He lifted the claw and idly flicked the blades, “Again.”

Nancy groaned and attempted to lift herself up onto her elbows. Krueger’s hand shot out slamming her into the ground roughly. He tutted at her chiding her like a child. She wanted to scream at Quentin to run but the words refused to form.

“Bad girl.” She could feel the blades idly tap on her back, “Stay down.”

“Krueger!” At the sound of his name, Krueger shifted to look at Quentin. Gravel dug into her sides as Krueger rested his weight on the arm, easily keeping her pinned to the ground. Quentin spoke with a voice full of thinly veiled hatred, “You don’t want her.”

“Oh but I do.” In one swift motion, he sank the blades into the open wounds of her shoulder causing her to scream and kick at him. She faintly heard Quentin screaming. But it didn’t matter. The screaming and kicking didn’t faze Krueger and instead it only seemed to excite him. He hummed loudly as he applied more pressure to the gloved hand. Taking time to twist the blades deeper into the wound. Unable to hold them back any longer, tears spilled down her face as she screamed. Suddenly a desperate voice broke through the screaming.

“She’s not Nancy!” _Not Nancy...?_

This seemed to get Krueger’s attention. The relief she felt when he pulled the blades out of her shoulder was immeasurable. He wiped them down the back of her striped sweater, leaving it stained with her own blood. 

Quentin's voice took on a furious tone as he spoke, his face pulled into a tight frown. Tears in his eyes as he stepped forward bearing down on them. 

“There’s no point in torturing her. She’s not ‘your’ Nancy. And she won’t ever be ‘your’ Nancy. You can’t just replace her and you know that. Because I took her from you.” Quentin slammed his palm flat against his chest, “ So, come after me. I’m the one you want.”

Krueger stood up from his crouched position next to her. He extended his hand out to his side, flicking the blades as he met Quentin’s glare with his own, “I’ve always thought that was cute about you. Always wanting to play the hero.”

“Fine. I’ll kill you first then.” She could hear the sinister grin he wore in his words as he gestured down at her prone form, “And then I’ll come back to play with Nancy more.” 

Quentin stepped back as Krueger advanced towards him. His body looked tense as he stood there waiting for the right moment to run. Krueger threw one last glance at her as she lay there. That was his opportunity, and he took it. Quentin darted across the street without looking behind him. Krueger muttered curses under his breath as he took off after Quentin. Entirely focused on catching him.

Nancy felt like she could finally breathe again as she watched Krueger disappear down the street. _Thank you Quentin._

Her body ached deeply but she knew what had to be done. Grabbing fists full of the ground, she began dragging herself over the rough ground. Quentin didn’t have enough distance on Krueger and would surely get downed soon. Krueger would come back and do god-only-knows-what to her. 

If he found her.

Her only hope now was to make enough distance and hopefully bleed to death before that could happen. She began crawling like her life depended on it. Because it did.

_I’m going to need years of therapy to even begin to unpack all of this._

She dragged her body across that same decrepit playground that she had been in not even 10 minutes earlier repairing a generator with Tapp. Before she had known it was Krueger. Before Tapp had died. Before David had died. 

Her head spun. 

The rocks scraped her as she dragged herself behind the fence towards Shack. In the distance she heard Quentin scream as he got downed. It wouldn’t be long now. 

Either she would bleed out or he would find her. _Stop. Don’t think of that._ Regardless, she would end up back at the campfire.

Tears streamed down her face as she attempted to muffle her cries with her hand. She stopped moving next to a lit fire barrel when she heard it. A distant boom. A sinking feeling grew deep inside as reality set in. She was alone. Completely alone with a monster. 

She wanted to do nothing more than lay her head down and cry. So she did.

A sound cut through her sobs, almost like a distant hum. Like the entity was calling out to her. She lifted her head and saw it then. About 10ft in front her a door swung open from the ground and a thick black mist poured out of it. The Hatch.

She desperately pulled herself forward. Determined more than ever to survive. To live for those who died. 

One last thought crossed her mind as she grabbed the edge of the hatch and pulled herself forward through it.

_I will NEVER get this lucky ever again._


End file.
